


Path of Uncertainty

by Syntaxis



Category: Fire Emblem Series
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, And That Means Perma-death, But Still A Dude Dropped Into Another World, F/M, Gen, Lots of pairings, Not A Picnic, Not Self-Insert, Original Character(s), POV Male Character, POV Original Character, Romance, So Not Sunshine And Rainbows, it's fire emblem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9360653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syntaxis/pseuds/Syntaxis
Summary: A man wakes up in a field. Yeah, not that field. Not even close. Something is definitely wrong. This isn't how the story is supposed to go.





	1. Not Kansas

****

I woke up in a field. A pig sniffed my bare foot, snout exploring the skin. Before it could do any more, I jerked my legs back and sat upright, cross-legged. The pig snorted, lifting its pink head and staring. I stared back. Then I screamed, long and loud. My barnyard friend squealed in unison, flinching away. Lack of air eventually ended my bellowing, leaving me panting for oxygen. I looked around—the field was actually more of a farm, it seemed, with fences and a rugged little stone house in the distance. A few cows mooed, a lethargic sound.

_Pig._

_Farm._

_Cows._

Glossy black eyes studied my face. “Oi, Bacon Bit,” I began, glaring. “Where the _fuck_ am I?” He responded with a tilted head. _Okay, okay. Focus. Of course the pig doesn’t know. But really. What the fuck is happening here?_ I slapped myself. Not a dream, apparently. Once more, just for good measure. Still not a dream. Rising and brushing off bits of grass and dirt, I plunged my hands into my pajama bottom pockets. No cell phone. 

A hasty search of the surrounding grass revealed nothing. _Alright. No phone, no problem. This is a farm, right? Farms have farmers._ I turned toward the small stone house, a humble building with a thatched roof and plenty of moss on its walls. As I started walking in the house’s direction, a figure appeared from behind the home. Oh, thank God. Just the person I wanted to see. Maybe the owner could tell me where I was. Or why. Or how. Or anything at all, really.

“Hey!” I shouted, waving an arm up high. “Is this your farm? I think I’m lost… Well, maybe. I don’t know what’s going on. I just woke up and your pig and your cows and your farm—” The person, now close enough for me to recognize him as a man, carried a body length spear. A very sharp looking spear. I froze, and he closed the remaining gap between us, leveling the spear at me once we were only a couple yards apart.

 _Jesus Christ. Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. He’s gonna fucking stab me._ “W-Woah, man, calm down! I don’t mean any harm! I’m just looking for help,” I pleaded, trying to make eye contact over the spear trained on my chest. He scowled and barked something in a language I didn’t understand. Sounded like Russian, maybe? No, I couldn’t place it. 

“Do you speak English?” I tried, repeating it again slower when he showed no understanding. Nothing. Obviously, this guy didn’t know a damn word of English. “Okay, so you have no idea what I’m saying. Awesome.” The man growled in his strange language again, shaking the spear.

Panic welled up in my chest, an icy tightness that threatened to take over. “Please! Don’t kill me, man! I-I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what to fuck is going on, so please, please don’t hurt me!” Tears fell from my eyes, big and fat and pathetic. I wobbled and dropped to my knees. Everything was fucked. Middle of nowhere with some lunatic waving a goddamn spear at me, speaking words I couldn’t comprehend—nothing made sense. I went to bed last night in my apartment and now this.

The man shook his head and lifted the spear, holding it like a staff by his side. More foreign words, this time not so harsh. I searched his face, seeing an expression that softened, lowered brows and an offset mouth. Had he decided not to kill me? I wiped my eyes. Maybe I was too pitiable to kill. He sunk to my level on the ground, still grasping the spear. For a long while, the man simply peered at me. Then he pointed to himself. “Radgar.” He did this a few more times before gesturing at me.

He wants… my name? I nodded and tapped my chest. “Blaine.” Exhaling, I closed my eyes, feeling some of the terror fade. My life wasn’t in immediate danger anymore, or at least less so than it had been a few minutes ago.

Radgar, as he called himself, echoed my name, disconcertingly alien with his accent. For the first time, I really saw Radgar, took in his features. He was older, perhaps sixty or so, with short gray hair and a full beard that obscured his neck. What struck me, though, were his clothes. Farmers probably didn’t wear the fanciest clothing, but Radgar wore a filthy brown shirt, more of a bag in reality, paired with tan pants of some material I couldn’t identify. Leather? Hide? It was ragged, that’s for sure.

I wondered why he didn’t buy some new clothes. They looked handmade, rough stitches and fabric. Then again, this guy was fucking nuts. Who owns a spear, let alone thrusts it at people? And what kind of name is “Radgar?” A hand in front of my eyes interrupted that line of thinking. While I’d spaced out, Radgar stood and offered his hand. I accepted it, hesitating, and he helped me up. He extended his arm and pointed at the house, then to me, then to himself, then back at the house.

“You want me to follow you… to your house?” I asked, wagging a finger between myself and him and the building. Made sense. Going from nearly impaling me to inviting me into his home. Radgar nodded, grunting as he ushered me forward, leading the way but always keeping a watchful eye. Considering there weren’t many other options, I obliged. _He might have a phone or something. A map? Anything to get me out of here._

On our way to his house, I surveyed the area again. Definitely bumpkin city. No roads, only a narrow dirt trail winding away from his farm and into some thick woods. No telephone lines. No cars or trucks or even a tractor, though there was a cart parked next to a crude stable. Wait, was this guy Amish? It would have explained a lot, but instinct told me that wasn’t quite right. The Amish lived in communities, wore different clothes than Radgar, and certainly didn’t come at visitors with weapons. They also at least spoke English to my knowledge, so Radgar didn’t fit the profile. At all. 

We reached Radgar’s modest dwelling. I waited while he opened the door, seizing the chance to study this strange abode in detail. The stones comprising the walls were jagged, uneven, and though snugly fitting, merely stacked atop one another. No sign of brick mortar anywhere—admittedly, the copious moss growing on the rocks made it hard to tell in some places. Did he build this himself? No home I’d ever seen looked like this. Straight from the Dark Ages, by the sight of it. _Hope it doesn’t rain soon_.

Radgar motioned for me to step inside. The interior reeked. Like, really _reeked_. A pungent odor, similar to rotting lettuce and mold assaulted my nostrils. I stifled a gag. Radgar himself didn’t smell entirely pleasant, but his place drowned any stench I might have whiffed from him. Naturally, the old farmer wasn’t fazed by the smell, or just didn’t show it. He closed the door behind us and took a seat in a battered wooden chair, chipped with unbalanced legs. I swayed in place, gently rocking on the balls of my feet.

With a sigh and a few words in his language, Radgar directed my attention to the spot on the floor opposite his chair. I got the hint, walking over and sitting, albeit not without distaste for the compacted dirt floor. He leered at me, saying nothing. The probing gaze pricked my nerves, forcing me to avert my eyes. _I’m not a piece of meat. Well, hopefully. That pot in the fireplace looks awfully large._ Despite the massive cauldron, Radgar’s home was quite Spartan: one room, a plain cot, the fireplace, and a round table big enough for four people if they squeezed.

I snapped back to Radgar when he tapped his spear butt against the wall. He rubbed his stomach and pointed at me, accompanied by yet again more incomprehensible words. _Oh shit. I_ am _dinner! He’s a fucking lunatic and a cannibal!_ I scooted backwards, bunching my muscles in preparation to bolt. Radgar frowned and stood, eliciting a skittish jump from me, but he paid no mind. He propped the spear against the wall and grabbed a bowl off the table.

“Blaine,” the farmer said, pretending to eat from the bowl. Before I could react, he dunked the bowl in the pot, filling it with a vile white goo. He held the bowl out to me. “Blaine,” he repeated, making the same eating motions. _Oh. He’s feeding me. That’s… a relief_. The goo quivered. At least I knew the source of the delightful aroma permeating his house.

Encouraged by Radgar’s expectant expression, I touched the bowl to my lips, closed my eyes, titled the bowl and gulped. _God, this is gonna taste so… not bad?_ My eyes widened at the surprisingly un-foul flavor of my host’s home cooked goop. He nodded at me, miming eating again.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, drinking in another mouthful of the mystery soup. Radgar grinned; three teeth do not a smile make. Even though I wasn’t particularly hungry, I finished the goo out of obligation—it also genuinely wasn’t too shabby. Noticing I’d polished off the bowl, he scooped it up and headed back over to the pot.

“Ah, that’s fine! I don’t need seconds,” I protested, forming an X with my arms and shaking my head. He watched me for several seconds then shrugged, setting the bowl down on the table. Radgar returned to his chair, folding his arms. His eyes never strayed far from me for long, and an uncomfortable—at least for me—silence crept into the air. However, I really couldn’t stay here much longer. People had to be wondering where the hell I was. 

“Do you have a phone?” I asked, holding my thumb and index finger in the “call” position next to my ear. My expectations remained low, given the lack of any trace of modern civilization I’d seen, but I had to ask.

Radgar squinted and cocked his head. Well, that didn’t work. I tried mock driving next, turning an invisible steering wheel back and forth. He scratched his beard and muttered something to himself. _The guy’s lived this long and never seen a car? Was he raised by wolves, come on!_ I struggled to stay calm. Questions about how I got here at all aside, I needed to leave. I needed to go home. My boss asked for that report by noon today. Maybe this counted as “extraordinary circumstances” and warranted an extension? 

I looked at Radgar. So, he didn’t have a car or a phone. Or any kind of technology for that matter. But surely he knew the area. He could guide me back to town at least. “I’m from the city. Can you take me back?” I drew a cluster of sloppy houses on the dirt floor with my finger, then carved an arrow from where I sat to the houses. “I need to get back.” 

He scrutinized the drawing, letting out a low hum. Our eyes meeting, he gave a short nod. “Blaine,” he said, walking two fingers across his palm. “Erkham.” With the last word, he pointed at my houses. 

“Yes, yes! You’ll take me to the city? Oh my God, thank you, thank you!” I nearly leapt up in joy. The worst morning of my life just improved slightly. 

“Erkham,” Radgar said again, closing his eyes. Must have been the word for city in whatever language he spoke. Without speaking again, he got up from the chair and began rooting through a pile of clutter in one corner of the room. Eventually, he must have found what he wanted and spun around with a large sack. He tossed it to me.

The sack contained several loaves of hard bread. Dubious edibility notwithstanding, what did this bread have to do with going to the city? Travel snacks? We couldn’t be too far away. Whoever dumped me out here—it had to be some kind of sick prank—only had a little bit of time to deposit me here. _Why didn’t I wake up, though? Was I drugged? Why? Why do this?_

Sealing the thoughts for the time being, I approached Radgar, who had started digging in the pile again. In one hand he held a rusty knife while the other pulled a leather belt from the cluster right as I stopped beside him. _Okay, I thought we were past the sharp object stage, man._ “Um, Radgar?” I asked, voice small, eyes locked on the blade. 

He glanced from my waist to the belt before looping it about my hips, fastening the front. It hung loose, probably crafted for a more heavyset man, but wasn’t going to fall off. Radgar leaned forward to adjust it and stow the knife into a shallow pouch on the side. I stood motionless, mouth agape. Was the way back to the city along the Bear Grylls Express? 

“I, uh, appreciate the… protection, but—” A scream interrupted my sentence. The cry sounded nearby. Radgar was out the door in an instant, swiftly retrieving his spear on the way. I groaned, sprinting after him; things just kept getting weirder and weirder. 

Outside, in the same spot I’d woken up this morning, a young woman squared off against Bacon Bit. With a sword. A shiny, pointy, very real sword. 

_What the fuck?_

The woman wore an orange tunic and shoulder pads, a wide black belt snug on her midsection. Dark pants ended in tall brown boots, laced up tight. Purple hair flowed down past her shoulders, partly kept at bay by a white hairband. She was stunning, because she was beautiful, yes, but mostly due to the fucking sword. 

_A cosplayer? An extreme cosplayer out in bum fuck nowhere? Can I quit? I wanna quit._

She gripped sword, raising it higher as she saw us encroaching. “Who are you? Where am I?” the woman asked, a note of panic clear in her tone. 

English. She spoke English. At that moment, I didn’t care if she was a cosplaying, sword-wielding psychopath—I could understand her. Unfortunately, Radgar could not. He advanced, spear levied in striking position. Granted, to him, she was yelling gibberish and jabbing a blade at his pig, so it was a fair response. But I did not want to see this turn into a bloodbath. “Radgar,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I can understand her. Let me talk to her.” _Besides, crazy or not, she looks as lost as I am._

Radgar’s eyes narrowed, and I made desperate talking motions with my hand, gesturing between myself and her. His face settled into a deep frown, but he nodded consent. He watched as I tentatively inched in her direction, still holding his spear at the ready. 

“Stop right there! I asked you a question!” the woman said, eyes flicking between Radgar and me. 

_Well, two questions actually_. “My name is Blaine,” I told her, then thumbed at Radgar over my shoulder. “That’s Radgar. He can’t understand you.” 

She adjusted her stance, planting her feet. “Tell him to drop the spear. I don’t want to hurt him.” 

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen unless you put down the sword,” I said. _I can’t believe I’m having this conversation_. “You looked like you were about cut his pig into pork chops.” 

“It just startled me is all!” she snapped, glaring at Bacon Bit. “And you only answered one question. Where is this place?” 

I sighed. “Your guess is as good as mine. Somewhere outside St. Louis, I suppose. Did you get lost or something?” Maybe there was some convention going on? Or she was on a _lot_ of drugs. 

Her lips pursed, and she regarded me for a moment. “What’s St. Louis? I’ve never heard of that country.” 

Was it possible to have luck this bad? Apparently so. Two complete whack jobs in the same morning. How could she live here—I assumed since she had no accent—and not have even heard of St. Louis. The Arch? Gateway to the West? St. Louis Cardinals? 

I collected myself, breathing deep. “It’s a city. In America. Ring any bells?” I supplied, rubbing my forehead. “Look, for now… just put down the sword. I’ll make sure Radgar does the same. Okay?” 

The woman looked almost pained to lower the weapon, removing one hand. I whirled to face Radgar, raising my eyebrows and pointed to his spear. He let the tip fall, hands relaxing on the shaft. _Good. Now, let’s try and sort this out_. 

“So… St. Louis, you said? And America? Is America the country we’re in?” she asked, scrunching her brow and shaking her head. “I don’t get it. America? I was in Crimea a few moments ago…” 

I didn’t even try to disguise my disbelief. “You don’t know America? Most powerful country in the world? Bald eagles? Barrack Obama? Apple pie?” I asked, nearly yelling. _And what was that about Crimea? She thinks she’s in Russia?! Well, Ukraine depending on who you ask. But that’s not important! Crimea?!_

She closed her eyes tight and pressed both her cheeks together. “Wake up. Wake up, Mia. You know training so hard before bed makes you have nutty dreams,” she said, voice low. She cracked an eye open, a high whine escaping her mouth. “Okay. Fine. I’ll do the stupid dream.” 

“Um,” I began, but the woman kept going. 

“First! I don’t know what this ‘America’ place is, but if it’s so awesome, why haven’t I heard of it? Second! Everyone knows Begnion is the strongest country. Third!... Third… You’re just a dumb dream, so it doesn’t matter what you say!”

“I…” There wasn’t really a proper response to a tirade like that. _Absolutely off her rocker. She’s… Wait. She said her name was Mia? Mia…? And Begnion? Crimea… Holy fucking shit. This crazy bitch thinks she’s from Fire Emblem!_

No mistake, “Mia” looked exactly like the Mia from the games. Uncanny how good her costume was. I couldn’t believe there was a person so delusional she actually thought she was from Tellius. It had been a long time since I played those games, or any games, but I’d know those terms anywhere. I should have realized who she was cosplaying earlier. She really did look just like Mia. 

“Look, I don’t know if this is some creepy LARP community or something, but stop fucking around, okay?” It all made sense now. Radgar’s behavior, his language, his house, his spear, Mia, her sword, the Fire Emblem crap. They were a cult. A freaky cult playing out some bizarre fantasy. And the best part? They obviously kidnapped me to be a part of whatever fucked up shit they were into. 

Mia put her palm out. “No! _You_ stop it! I was just looking for the boss to spar as usual, and then… and then… Well, I started having this dream!” She stomped her foot. “Time to wake up, Mia! Seriously!” 

“You’re not dreaming. You’re just fucking crazy. You guys are both insane!” I screeched, staring at Radgar and Mia in turn. “What is this? You go around swinging weapons pretending you’re in Tellius? Oh no, better watch out, those damned Daeins are coming!” It was ridiculous. Absurd. 

In just a couple seconds, Mia traveled the distance between us, her hands squeezing my collar. “You’re a really annoying dream, you know that? Saying stuff that makes no sense and then bringing up Daein? Ugh, just let me wake up already!” Mia’s eyes flared. She truly believed it was a dream. 

I squirmed out of her grasp, smoothing my shirt. “Like I said already, this isn’t a dream. You’re here. You’re crazy, but you’re here. On Earth. Where _normal_ people like me live.” I just wanted to leave. Get the hell out of here and forget any of this ever happened. 

“No… It has to be a dream… I’m not crazy. I’m a mercenary. I’m searching for my eternal rival!” she stressed. “Come on, come on! Wake up! Why can’t I wake up?” 

The fantasy must have broken her psyche. I almost felt sorry for her. But I was done. Time to leave. I’d walk until I encountered some people who were actually sane. Mia whispered to herself about dreams and training and rivals while I moved to brush past her. And then I saw it. 

Galloping on the edge of the forest, a pure, blindingly white horse raced along. My heart beat faster, thumping as this creature of supreme grace flowed past the trees. Sparkling dust, swirling lazily, sprung out as each hoof hit the ground. Magical, that’s how it was. Yet I noticed all this only after seeing its lone horn—tall, proud, and gleaming—rising from the space separating its eyes. 

“Mia,” I said airily, spinning her unceremoniously so she could witness it. “Do you see that?” 

She was quiet for a time, eyes tracking the majestic beast. “What… What is that? It’s… incredible. That’s not like any horse I’ve ever seen.” Mia’s words brimmed with awe. 

“It’s a unicorn,” I said, blinking. “They don’t exist.” 

The unicorn vanished into the woods, leaving only a glittering trail behind. Mia looked at her boots. “I don’t know how, but… I don’t think I’m on Tellius anymore.” 

I did a 360. The farm. Radgar—who looked like he _hadn’t_ just seen the most spectacular thing imaginable. His house. The open fields. The dim forest. No sign of anything familiar. Mia. It was impossible. I couldn’t be… somewhere else. 

But Mia got sucked here too. A fictional character. That’s not how these things went, the stories I’d read. It was always a place you knew, a fantastic realm you could bring all your foreknowledge. This was all wrong, every aspect. 

This wasn’t Earth. 

This wasn’t Tellius. 

_Fuck_.


	2. A Long and Arduous Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a strange day for our man Blaine. Strange indeed.

Mia and I sat side by side on Radgar’s floor. He squatted in the same rickety chair as earlier, hard eyes shifting from me to her and back again. After the altercation outside, Radgar had swept us into his home, muttering and shaking his head. Surely, the man was having trouble processing why two complete strangers randomly appeared on his farm within no time at all. Of course, my mind wasn’t faring any better. Probably worse. Somehow, against all logic, reason, and laws of the universe, I’d been transported to Ye Old Smelly Fantasy Land of Unicorns.

I glanced at Mia. Her downcast eyes betrayed a state of utter confusion and distress. Since seeing the unicorn, Mia hadn’t spoken more than a couple words. I found this odd, considering she came from a world where horses flew and people transformed into giant cats, birds, and dragons. This place resembled Tellius far more than Earth, but maybe unicorns weren’t creatures of legend there like they were for me.

Despite my own inner turmoil, I had to say something. “Are… you OK?” Great. Smooth. You’re a real charmer, man.

Mia lifted her head a fraction. “Why would I be?” she answered, flat and numb. I didn’t know how to respond to a Mia who wasn’t upbeat like in the games. Frankly, I barely even used her character, preferring Zihark instead.

Radgar spared me the uncomfortable prospect of continuing that conversation by grunting out a few words and pointing at Mia, then the bubbling caldron in the fireplace. Jeez, this guy was way too generous. He stared at me next. What am I, some kind of interpreter?

“Uh, he wants to know if you’re hungry. The stuff in the pot smells awful and looks even worse, but it’s actually not bad. I think you’d…” I trailed off, noticing her lack of reaction. Radgar must have seen it too, having sighed.

The ensuing silence grated my ears. It forced me to dwell on my situation, how lost I was, how scared I was. Radgar wouldn’t let us stay here for an extended period of time. I already knew that. Mia was a mercenary, someone capable of lasting out there in the wilderness. Me? I was nothing. I’d be dead in a couple days. And given her current condition, I couldn’t expect Mia to watch over me.

The violet-haired swordswoman brought me back to the present. “You knew what it was.” Her voice was hollow but with an edge. “That horse… thing. You called it a uni-something.”

“A unicorn.”

“Yeah. That.” Mia faced me fully. “Why do you know about it?”

Shit. I said a whole bunch of things Mia probably wanted answers for. Not good. “They’re mythical creatures where I’m from. They aren’t real, just make-believe. That thing looked like one.” Hopefully, that placated her.

“I see.” She sounded anything but convinced. “And Daein? You mentioned them as well. Who are you?”

“Blaine.” I tried to remain affectless. “I said that already.”

“You know what I mean. Are you from Tellius too? Though, I don’t know what a Barracks Omama is… And we don’t have any unicorns, but you have to be to know about Daein.” I didn’t know Mia could look so shrewd.

Ah. That moment when every would-be self-insert hero schmuck has to decide to reveal his knowledge or not. This is sooner than I thought. I don’t think for long, going with my gut. “I’m from Earth. We have… stories about Daein. Crimea too. Basically, all of Tellius. They’re like legends to us.” Good, solid, classic answer. Ten points.

Mia’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re from… the ground? You mean, like some dirt? And legends? Your weird mole-people talk about Tellius?”

That’s not the reaction I hoped for. “What? No. Earth is a planet! A different world! W-We’re not mole-people! Anyways! Yes, there are legends about Tellius on Earth. The world. Not the ground.”

A finger stopped inches before my nose. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You expect me to believe some idiot named an entire world after dirt? I want the truth!”

Radgar slammed the butt of his spear into the floor, unleashing a torrent of words as well. Both Mia and I flinched, her hand hovering near the empty scabbard on her belt, probably from instinct. She eyed her sword, resting near the door since she’d been persuaded to relinquish it open entering (for some reason, I’d been allowed to keep the knife Radgar gave me). Radgar glared at us, his beard quaking while he continued to ramble and gesticulate wildly. Finally, after a tirade that shamed any and all lectures I’d ever received, he quieted. Guess he didn’t like being left out of the loop.

I raised both hands, offering wide, placid eyes. “We were just talking. That’s all.”

He grunted and folded his arms across his chest, spear shaft snug in the crook of his elbow. Taking a few strides forward and crouching, he planted himself before Mia. Radgar’s eyes traveled over her form a while before he turned to me. One finger tapped his temple and another pointed at her. Do I think… Do I know her?

Answering honestly wasn’t an option. Well, didn’t exactly know her, so it wasn’t a complete lie. I shook my head, holding eye contact with the farmer. If the depth of his frown signified his level of disappointment, my reply was exemplary. A rather dubious honor. Radgar’s hand disappeared inside his beard for a few moments, expression gently morphing into one of contemplation.

“Blaine.” Radgar’s guttural voice cut through the stifled air. His finger was directed at me. “Radgar.” His palm pressed against his chest. Then, the man pointed at Mia, trying out what I could only assume was meant to be an inviting smile.

Her answer came after considerable pause. “Mia.”

As he had with mine, Radgar tested her name several times. Three nods of conviction soon followed. “Blaine. Mia,” he began, knocking the spear shaft against the drawing of houses I’d made earlier. “Erkham.”

Mia looked at me. “What is this guy talking about?”

“I think… he’s telling us to travel to the nearest city together.” Excitement coursed through me. If Mia joined me on the road, I might just survive the journey. The town could have answers, something to help us figure out what happened.

“And why would I do that? For all I know, you two bozos are in on this together.”

“I told you: I’m from Earth. We’re in the same boat, here. I don’t know any more than you do.” I needed to convince Mia. Otherwise… well, the idea of becoming chow for some fantasy monster made my stomach flop.

She puffed one cheek. “I’m not sure I believe your whole “Earth” story. But, I guess you don’t seem that threatening.”

Ouch. Wounded masculinity aside, it was progress. “Why don’t we just go to the city? At least see if there’s any answers there. Besides, there’s safety in numbers if we go together.” My thumb and forefinger twirled a button on my pajama top. “Radgar will guide us, I’m sure. But I’d prefer to have someone I can talk to along the way.”

Mia tossed up her arms. “Fine! I don’t have much choice anyways. But I don’t trust either of you.”

That can come later, I thought. For now, all I need is your cooperation. “Then it’s settled. We’re going to the city.” I faced Radgar. “Blaine. Mia. Radgar. Erkham.” For insurance, I threw in some walking motions and nodding.

Something painful, almost sorrowful, entered Radgar’s eyes. “Blaine. Mia. Erkham.” Silence. “Radgar…” He lowered his gaze to the floor.

A sigh sounded from beside me. “So much for having a guide.”

While learning Radgar likely would not be traveling with us dampened my spirits, even brought forth fear, it changed nothing. Waiting around for things to suddenly return to normal wasn’t feasible. Being here terrified me. I couldn’t deny that. Yet, giving up meant forgetting any hope of returning home. It’d been a bad morning, but fuck this world. I’m not going down without a fight.

Undeterred, I tapped my village of houses, adding a winding path. “Mia. Blaine,” I said, running my finger along the path towards the town. “Radgar.” I dug a divot in the floor on the part of the trail furthest from the houses. If he couldn’t take us there himself, he could at least show us the way.

He took some time before nodding acquiescence. I smiled and turned to Mia. “He’ll still tell us how to get there.”

“Yeah, I got that part,” she said in tandem with an exasperated eye roll. “I’ve been here the whole time too, you dolt.”

I ignored Mia’s gibe. “We should leave as soon as possible. It’s probably decently long trip.” That sack of bread and the knife hanging from my belt made a lot more sense now. Judging from the amount of bread Radgar wanted to give me, the journey had to be at least a few days. And with Mia tagging along as well, he’d probably throw in even more rations. I hoped.

Our generous farmer friend stood and padded towards the pile of junk. He gathered up the sack and tossed a few more things into it: rope, a small hatchet, a blanket, and—to my relief—more bread. Radgar dropped the sack in front of us. Shuffling away again, he stopped near the door and lifted Mia’s sword, earning a low growl from its owner.

Instantly, Mia rose. “I’ll take that back, if you will.”

Radgar gave both Mia and the sword appraising glances. He held the blade at length, as if testing its balance, bouncing the hilt in his grip. Thankfully, he refrained from any practice swings. Just as Mia teetered dangerously close to eruption, Radgar pressed the weapon into her hand. His eyes lingered on the sword in appreciation.

“About time,” she grumbled, stowing it away in the scabbard. Mia attempted to step back, but Radgar began pointing at himself and pantomiming various sword strikes. He ended by stroking his beard and chuckling lightly.

This must have piqued Mia’s interest, as she looked from her sword to him. “You trained in the art of the blade?”

He dipped his head and waved a hand over his shoulder. A sentenced followed, but the only word I caught was my name. What do I have to do with any of this?

Mia dipped her head as well. “Hmmm. Yes, that makes perfect sense! You were a swordsman as a young man!”

… What? How do you even know that’s what he meant? And now you decide to be cheery? Birds of a feather, I guess…

The pair continued some kind of freakish game of charades only they could decipher. Eventually, Radgar gestured at her hair and rather crassly formed the stylized shape of a woman with his hands, finishing with a head inclined at her sword and a disbelieving shake. I didn’t need to be in on their lingo to understand that one—women weren’t warriors.

Truthfully, there wasn’t much I remembered about Mia specifically. I knew she was searching some rival or whatever, and I knew she loved sparring. But there was one thing I recalled in detail: her supports with Largo. So I knew right then Radgar had done fucked up.

Her fists trembled. “Are you trying to say women can’t fight?” Mia’s eyes were teal-tinted steel. A fist came up under Radgar’s chin. “Because I can fight!”

To his credit, Radgar seemed to realize his mistake. With a gentle hand, he lowered her fist. Apologetic words tumbled out in a low rumble. Soon, the admonished expression faded, replaced by admiration. Radgar clapped Mia on the shoulder and loosed a hearty laugh. He peeked at me next, breaking into full, uproarious laughter. Yeah, I don’t know what’s happening anymore.

 

“I don’t know whether to be offended or not,” Mia said, relaxing her hands.

“Let’s just say he respects your… skill and leave it at that,” I reply, getting to my feet and snatching the sack of supplies. “Maybe it’s time to be on our way?” Honestly, I didn’t want to leave. Traveling an unknown road to an unknown city sounded precarious at best. But it was now or never. Any longer and my resolve would peter out.

Mia poked Radgar in the chest. “Just so you know, buddy, if you weren’t such an old geezer I’d have shown you just how well a lady can fight.” A wry smile danced on her lips. “Now, let’s not keep Mr. Mole-man over there waiting.” She shot me a devilish grin.

“Mia.” Your mood swings make no sense.

“Yes?”

“Tellius comes from the Latin word for soil or earth. In other words, dirt.”

“What in Ashera’s name is Latin?”

“Not important. But basically, if I’m a mole-person, so are you.”

“I am not a mole-person, you… you mole-person!” Her cheeks flared. I could get used to that.

A rough hand impacted on my upper back. Radgar beamed at us, looking thoroughly amused. Dude, like five seconds ago you were upset at us talking. He slapped my back again. I gave him a weak smile. “Blaine. Mia. Erkham?”

He lowered his chin in a curt and jerky nod. Then, promptly we were escorted out the door. Sunlight forced me to squint as my eyes adjusted to the far brighter surroundings. I don’t know what I expected to see instead, but Radgar’s farm was still there. The forest where the unicorn disappeared into was still there. Bacon Bit was patiently waiting outside the door. A part of me prayed none of it was real, even after everything I’d gone through in the past couple hours. But Radgar’s hand on my back was real. Mia brushing past me was real. Bacon Bit licking my foot was real. Wait, no, don’t do that.

My leg yanked backward. Lovely globules of drool dripped off my toes. Neither Radgar or Mia noticed the pig’s display of affection, and I tried not to focus on the unpleasant wetness as I started walking. Radgar led us around the house in the direction of the narrow trail merging with the forest. Though I remembered it from earlier, it hadn’t appeared nearly so uninviting then.

“What is apple pie?”

“Huh?” I glanced at Mia sidelong.

“When you were yelling about America you mentioned something called apple pie.”

Of all the… why? Why, Mia? There are more important things! “You know what pie is, right?”

“You bet! There are all kinds of pies. Meat pies, berry pies, fruit pies. My friend Ilyana…” Her smile froze as she looked down.

Were they friends? I was beginning to regret not playing those games more often. Ilyana… Mage? Always hungry? Yes. My appalling memory withstanding, Mia was clearly feeling the loss of people important to her. The awkward silence proved too much for me. “Apples. Have you heard of those?”

Mia lifted her head. “Eh? Oh, er, no. I don’t think so.”

“Wow. No apples. Kind of surprised by that. Anyways, an apple is a fruit. You can cut them up and make pie. You’ll need some cinnamon too. And nutmeg. And sugar. Mix it all together and, bam, apple pie. After you bake it.”

“What does it taste like?” Some of her energy returned.

I scratched the back of my head. “Well, that’s kinda hard to explain. Like apple pie, I guess? It’s sweet and flaky and goes great with ice cream.”

“What’s ice cream?”

Even Radgar stopping us at the mouth of the forest didn’t keep my soul from aching for Mia’s taste buds. Up close, the forest screamed ominous. Dense foliage prevented seeing more than several yards past the tree line. Beyond that, shadows crept up and consumed everything. The only consolation lay in the fact our trail appeared orderly and trimmed. How, I wasn’t entirely sure, considering Radgar had such strong reservations about visiting the city.

“Spooky,” Mia chimed. I had to wonder if her exuberance was a coping mechanism.

I felt something tug at my pantleg. Apparently, Bacon Bit had decided he couldn’t miss out on all the fun. However, looking down at him made me realize I was about to set off on a godforsaken trek through the wilderness without shoes. I nudged Radgar and pointed at my bare feet. The man grunted and began removing his boots. I protested, but he wouldn’t hear it. In a matter of moments, Radgar’s—if a little large—boots were on my feet. Bro… Bro. I love you. I fucking love you, man. Seriously, the man just gave me his own shoes. I decided that Radgar was actually God hiding within a smelly and unwashed farmer.

As I took a few experimental steps, Radgar used his spear to draw a line ending with a fork in the dirt. Making sure we were paying attention, he crossed out the right fork and drove the spearhead into the left. He barked an unmistakable warning as he did so. OK, no going right at the fork in the road. Noted.

I stared at Radgar. “Guess this is it, then? Thanks for everything.” I gestured at my new boots, at the sack, at the belt and knife. “Thank you.”

Radgar clasped my shoulder, squeezing. I had to ask. Looking him in the eyes—I had to. “Why? Why do this? Why help us? You did so much people you don’t even know…” I didn’t have any hand motions or signs for that kind of sentiment. I just willed him to understand.

Two hands gripped my shoulders. “Blaine. Radgar…” He brought his hands to his heart and then hovered one beside his thigh, palm down. “Blaine.”

I don’t know what you mean. If only this was easier, if we could talk—“You remind him of his son.”

Mia flanked my left side. “I think.”

“How do you know?” I avoided eye contact with anyone.

“I dunno. I just feel like that’s what he means. He did give you his boots.”

The smile, in all its toothless glory, on Radgar’s face told me she was right. I felt unworthy. I’d probably die before I reached the city, despite all he did. Radgar was a good man. Better than pretty much anyone I’d ever met. Fighting back tears, I extended my hand. Radgar took it firmly, shaking. Guess a handshake really is universal.

Radgar moved back, shifting his gaze to the foreboding woods. “Looks like we’re up,” Mia said, turning to face the trees.

“Yeah.” I swallowed. My legs went out from under me. At first, I thought my knees buckled from nerves, but I never hit the ground. Something warm and soft kept me aloft. Between my legs, Bacon Bit had managed to knock me off balance and begin carrying me. It was like straddling a very short pony. Of course, I still screeched like a schoolgirl.

“What are you—” Mia twisted around and her mouth went slightly agape. “How… Here… ‘Rides toward you’… And white robes… He’s wearing white. Aw, how did I not see that? Archrival…. But this guy? Well, beggars can’t be choosers!” She made a dramatic swoop with her arm. “Listen, fiend! We will do battle as hated rivals! Prepare yourself! Raise your weapon, cur! Oh… wait… Drat. It would appear you are unarmed. I’m not so dishonorable as to strike down a defenseless foe. We shall resume this when you are properly equipped. For now, onward, into the forest!” And with those sumptuous words, she marched away.

What the actual FUCK!? Archrival? Me? But I’m nothing like… I gave myself a once over. White pajamas. Riding a pig. Right, Mia believed in stupid prophecy bullshit.

God fucking dammit.

Radgar’s robust laughter split the air as I watched Mia tromp forward. This dusty road was only the beginning of a long and arduous journey which would take me to sights I had never seen, to people I’d never dreamed to meet, and to a realm filled with adventure I had always believed lived solely in the fantasies of children and in our deepest, most hidden desires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! As a note, I’ve chosen to take some creative liberties with the clothing the Fire Emblem characters will wear. Some the outfits are just impractical. Others downright ludicrous. The changes will be minor, but I think they’ll better reflect an actual medieval aesthetic. As for Mia not knowing about apple pie and ice cream, I don’t know if Tellius has those things, but for the purposes of this story, it doesn’t. Thank you all once again for reading my dorky mess of a story!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! I really hoped you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it! Mostly, I just wanted to do something that I’d never seen before in all the Fire Emblem fanfiction I’ve read. I hope I succeeded in capturing your interest. Don’t worry, though: Mia is far from the only FE character making an appearance. Also, I hope I got her personality down alright. It’s tough writing characters you didn’t create in situations they’ve never experienced. But I’m going to do my best to avoid OOC as much as possible! Please comment if you like so I can hear your opinions! Thank you so much for reading!


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